


lucky people

by kwitegay



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AND GAY, Character Growth, Crushes, Depression, George is confused, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Learning about yourself, M/M, Mental Health problems, Mutual Pining, Silly Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-10-14 16:06:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20603552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwitegay/pseuds/kwitegay
Summary: " I'll be your optimistic black holeFull of love I can't controlLet's keep each other safe from the world "-OR - George is in love with Alex, but several roadblocks stay in the way-" let's be lucky people you and me "





	1. we carry round our worried flurried minds

**Author's Note:**

> so this may or may not be a me-projecting-mental-health onto george. also i make no claim that george is gay irl this is a piece of fiction that im using for my own fun and coping reasons. (heavily based on the vibe and lyrics of lucky people by waterparks)

It was the time of year where summer turned to autumn, the leaves changing from green to vivid shades of warmth, the air becoming brisk. No snow decorated the ground, but the biting breeze moving swiftly through the streets of London jested towards winter. 

It was cool enough to consider taking a coat outside, but warm enough to survive without one. George thinks this is his favorite time of year, apartment doors being decorated in spirits of Halloween and the ground crunching under his feet. 

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets and relishes in the change of temperature, stopping to gaze at the fountain at the front of his apartment building. Rusty pennies grace the bottom, ripples of water making them look more distant. 

George digs in his jean pockets for a coin, tossing it into the fountain and making a wish for something he couldn't put into words. The lift ride to his flat is quiet, the only noises being the ding when the door closes. He leans against the wall and looks at himself in the reflective surface that lays before him. 

He winces a little, thinking he definitely needs a haircut. It was beginning to cover his eyes, curled ends going in different directions. He guesses that it might be a good thing to grow longer considering the dark circles under his eyes that never seemed to go away. 

He sighs, tossing his head back and immediately banging it on the elevator wall. He curses and his hand raises to press at the spot he’d hit, feeling the places he’d anxiously dug at previously. 

The lift stops soon enough and he leaves, the walk to his flat seeming like an eternity. He doesn’t need to use his key, which means Alex is home after all. 

“Oi, where you been?” Alex asks, pausing his game of FIFA and giving him a pointed glare. 

“Why is it your business?” George teases, but Alex doesn’t look too amused. 

“George, it’s been two days, you can’t just leave without telling me what’s up, I was worried sick.”

“Yeah, looks like it,” George motions to the playstation and kicks off his shoes. 

Alex sighs audibly, tossing aside his controller, ”Don’t do that shit with me, not even a text? Really? We live together you ass, you can’t just disregard me like you do everyone else.”

That stings, and George just walks to his room without another word. Alex is his best friend, but despite that he feels a rift growing, like the ground was splitting under their feet. He knows it’s likely his fault, and that he’s the one putting up the walls, but he doesn’t feel like he can stop himself at this point. 

He melts into his bed, feeling sleep sneak up on him before he’s ready for it. 

The two days he’s been away he hasn’t even slept, walking around London aimlessly and going from place to place, club to club, park to park. Now, as he pulls his covers up over him, the afternoon light spilling through his curtains, he welcomes sleep happily. 

⋅☆⋅

George wakes up to darkness, his clock reading three thirty a.m, meaning he got over twelve hours of sleep. His body feels heavy when he rolls out of bed, like he was a puppet being hung by strings. He’s a tad dizzy as well, which is bothersome when he tries to walk into the hallway. 

There’s a sliver of light from Alex’s cracked bedroom door, and George halts when he hears the boy talking. 

“I just don’t know what to do about him,” Alex says, then there’s a pause. George realizes he’s likely on the phone when Alex speaks again, “Mhm, I know, and I know he’s an adult and capable of taking care of himself and all that, but I worry about him, James.”

George feels a cocktail of anger and guilt. Anger that Alex was talking to James of all people about _ his _ mental health, and guilt for making him worry so much. 

“I feel like he’s pushing me away, and I dunno, like he doesn’t even wanna be around me no more,” Alex says, quieter than he was speaking earlier. 

It’s mainly guilt now. George wishes he could explain to Alex that it wasn’t him, but he thinks that could be considered lying. He walks away, feeling gross about eavesdropping in the first place, and staggers into the kitchen. 

“Damn it all,” He mutters to himself as he opens the fridge. Then he closes it. Then he leans against the counter, basking in the dark room. A few minutes go past where he’s just standing, wallowing in self loathing. 

“You’re awake,” He hears from the doorway, and his hand flies to his chest almost as if he needed to protect himself. 

“Christ, Alex,” George snaps, and then the light is flicked on. 

It takes a second for his eyes to adjust, and they sting for a moment as he squints at his friend. 

“Had a good nap?” Alex jokes, an obvious attempt to ease the tension. He offers George a smile, and it’s a little awkward but he returns the gesture. 

“Little too long to be considered a nap, I think,” George jests, deciding that he needed to do something with his hands to keep himself from fidgeting awkwardly. He makes tea. 

They stand in silence, making short lived eye contact until George hears the kettle go off.

“Want a cuppa?” George asks and sees Alex smile, nodding gently. He misses this. Misses Alex.

“Thank you.”

George shrugs as he smiles down at the kettle. He grabs his favorite mug from the cabinet and grabs Alex’s as well, preparing the tea. 

“You’re my best friend, you know that George?” Alex says from behind him, sounding nervous. It’s odd for Alex to sound so vulnerable.

“Shut up,” George mutters, no malice behind voice. 

“I’m sorry,” Alex says then.

“For what?” George inquires, feeling a weight on his shoulders. He regrets asking.

“I don’t know if it’s something I did or you just want me to piss off but if I hurt you in some way, or made you uncomfortable, please tell me because I miss you being by my side.”

This is exactly what George didn’t want to happen.

“Stop,” George says, turning to look at him, “It’s fine.. I’m fine.”

“But are we?” Alex asks. 

George can’t even begin to tell how he’s feeling, emotions swirling like a witch stirring her potion in his mind-cauldron. 

“I don’t know,” George answers honestly, hands itching to rub his eyes in frustration. Alex’s nervous gaze, the wind hurling itself at their windows, the silence of night, everything seemed to be too overwhelming. “I don’t know.”

⋅☆⋅

Sadness had begun to turn to anger. Seething, almost, like someone was taking a seam-ripper to all the resentment and jealousy he’d bottled for months. 

It’s warm outside, mid afternoon at the earliest, and George was just now wandering out onto the sidewalk of London. His sleep schedule is fucked now, he supposes, but he should’ve seen that coming. 

The warmth is almost overwhelming on his skin, like the sun was pushing against him. It’s especially uncomfortable in his scalp, he feels the need to protect himself.

He worries himself stupid, thinking about nothing and everything all at once. It wasn’t anger at anyone or anything in particular, just an accumulation of events that leave a terrible taste in his mouth.

He needs a nap.

He walks a few blocks until he stumbles across a bookstore. The walls are a dark brick, the only thing illuminating the tight aisles being strings of lights and the sun that pushes its way through the windows. 

He nods at the cashier and wanders aimlessly, humming a song he can’t name as he runs his fingers over the spines. Stacks of books lay in aisles in a way that made it seem homely but not too messy. He reads titles in his mind but doesn’t fully take them in - until one. It’s splashed with color and laying on top of a stack, slightly askew compared to the other towers he’d passed. 

_ Struggles and Identity of the Queer Mind _ by a man with a name George assumed was french. Spirals of color decorate block letters, it’s enticing. 

He picks it up almost nervously, feeling the slight bumps of words on the cover. He turns it over. 

_ “Amazing anecdotes of what it’s like to be confused and distressed.” _

_ “Realistic and honest, needs to be in every library with young people.” _

_ “Every LGBT youth needs to read this.” _

George feels a tightness in his throat, shaking his head. He’s straight, he doesn’t need a book like this, for people who aren’t like him. He’s only ever kissed a boy once, and he was too drunk to think. He doesn’t need this.

His arms don’t move. It’s a battle against his own body, trying to force the book down back onto the stack.

He doesn’t need it, he doesn’t want it, it’s the last thing he can imagine himself doing. Put it down, he begs himself, forget you ever saw it.

He’s walking towards the counter. 

The cashier gives him a smile, her eyes glistening as she scans the back, “We also have a deal on pride pins when you purchase books on LGBT topics, here,” She says, pushing a basket torwards him. 

“Oh, I’m-” He starts, but pauses. He glances in the bucket, seeing rainbows, equality symbols, various pride flags, and ones with pronouns listed in bold. “No thank you.”

“Alright,” She nods, pushing the book across the counter, “Eight ninety-five.”

He pays and rests his fingertips on the cover again, “No bag?”

“We try not to immediately offer bags to people who only buy one thing, cutting down on plastic n’ all. Do you need one, though?”

George shakes his head, taking the book and leaving quickly. 

He didn’t think any part of this though, and now he’s walking down the streets of London with a book about being Queer ticked in his jacket and a longing for something he couldn’t place. 

He hides it under his bed when he gets home, but almost immediately pulls it back up to flip to the first chapter. 

_ Internalized Oppression _

_ When people consider oppression of the LGBT community, They think it comes from those outside of our circles. When in reality, a bigger part of it comes from ourselves. _

_ Lots of us tell ourselves over and over that there’s no way we could be Queer; whether it’s gay, bisexual, lesbian, transgender, etc, the oppression comes from ourselves first. _

George tosses his head back and groans, hold tightening on the pages. 

_ In chapter two we’ll talk about why it’s important to be honest with yourself about who you are - but before that, it’s important to tackle what makes us so unaccepting of ourselves in the first place. _

_ It could be who raised you, your parents/guardians have a massive influence on how we see ourselves, and the same can be said about our surroundings. _

_ It could be outsiders saying negative things about the groups we identify with, or even just an aversion to wanting to be different. Some of us have so little self esteem or self-asurdness that the idea of being Queer scares us, and the first step to getting over it is knowing we have that aversion. _

George curses under his breath and shuts the book. That’s too much for the moment, he thinks. 

He leaves his bedroom and hears the door shut, keys hitting a table and the shuffling of fabric. 

“Al?” He calls, stepping into the living room.

Alex is there, but so is James, both with wide smiles and bright eyes. 

“Oh, James, hey.”

“Big man George!” James greets, pulling him into a hug. 

“What’s up with you guys?” George asks then, careful as to not sound too interested. 

“We’re gonna film and then grab dinner or something,” Alex shrugs. 

It doesn’t sit right with George, it sounds like a date. 

“You could come with,” James suggests, and the tension locks in place. 

“Oh, thank you but I think I’m alright, wouldn’t wanna impose.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Alex promises, and his eyes are honest, but George can’t bring himself to agree. 

“I have some reading to do later anyway, but next time.”

Alex nods and heads to the couch. James keeps George in the conversation by asking, “What’ve you been reading?”

“Oh just - Just some life books, y’know?”

“Cool,” James smiles, settling beside Alex.

This. This is what it hurts George to see. Alex resting so comfortingly against James’ side, scrolling through his phone, knee nudging his. He knows they’re close, but somehow seeing them together hurts in a way George didn’t think he could stand much longer. 

“I’m.. I think I’m gonna take a walk, maybe chill at a park for a bit and, you know, read..”

James nods, sparring a final smile before glancing at Alex’s screen. They share a laugh that sounds like a symphony, and George understands. 

He doesn’t fit. They’re the perfect picture, Alex and James, label or not. George just doesn’t fit.


	2. you've got me more than clumsy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " My hourglass is in your hands  
You've got my time, you are my plans  
Let's keep each other safe from the world "
> 
> george makes a few steps forward with who he is, and begins to realize just how much he likes alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, but the update is here!
> 
> i hope you enjoy

There’s a breeze moving swiftly through the leaves, a soft whistle. It’s comforting, almost, as George leans against a tree. The bark of the base pokes through his jacket but he sits anyway. 

He pulls the book out of his backpack along with a water bottle and a bag of crisps. He takes a deep breath before flipping open the book to chapter two this time.

_ Being Honest With Yourself _

_ Before we can thrive as people with our identities, we need to stop being dishonest. Many people lie not only to others, but to ourselves about who we are. If you experience same gender attraction, that’s not something you can change. It’s only something you can embrace. _

_ You have to look at yourself in the mirror and say, “I am who I am, and I’m not ashamed of it.” And that is the first step to self acceptance. _

‘Am I gay?’ George asks himself for the first time, immediately feeling a searing panic pierce his chest. “No no no,” He mumbles, letting the book fall off his lap. He always thought that maybe he just wasn’t as girl-crazy as Will and James, or maybe he just wasn’t into dating like Fraser, or maybe he’d come around eventually and settle down with a girl. 

So why hasn’t he? He’s twenty-one years old, never had a serious girlfriend, and he’s been fine with it. So why was he having this crisis? That’s what it is, a crisis, and maybe once he gets a girlfriend he’ll stop with this silly nonsense. 

The book goes in his bag, Shaking fingers struggling to gather his stuff and forcing the backpack closed. He needs a drink. He walks a few blocks to his favorite bar, it’s just now getting dark and people getting off work are heading to clubs to take the edge off. 

He can’t stop thinking, every step feeling like weights were holding down. He opens the door and enters another world, leaving his bag near the front where jackets are stored. He wanders, getting drinks and smiling at strangers. 

“Are you lost?” A voice calls from behind him, he turns. 

She’s pretty. Very pretty. Dark eyes and dark hair but a bright smile. That must make him straight, right? “Don’t think so.”

“You’re quite cute,” She says, confidence almost intimidating, “Fancy a chat?”

She's About the same height as him, which ups George’s courage, and they walk to a table in the corner. They talk about themselves, small talk mostly, and it made George want to itch at his scalp and slump in his chair. He learns her name is Charlotte. 

“Am I boring you?” She asks, smirking. 

“Not at all,” He lies, a reassuring smile on his lips. 

“Why don’t we get out here?”

The sentence brings dread to his chest but he tells himself it’s excitement and nods. Her hand in his, she pulls him outside. 

“Should we get a cab?” He asks, but she keeps walking, 

“Too impatient,” Charlotte mutters, and suddenly they’re`around a corner, and she’s kissing him. 

He’s kissed girls before, plenty of them, but he always feels the same heavy twisting in his chest. 

Her hands are on George’s chest and he’s trying to kiss back with the same amount of passion he’s getting, but it doesn’t feel right. Not at all. 

“I’m sorry,” He says when he leans back, feeling the wall against his back. 

“For what?” She asks, head tilting to the side. “Did I do something wrong? God, did I bite you-”

“No, it’s not you,” He assures,”It’s just - Something doesn’t feel right.”

She takes a step back and George exhales, “Woah, hey, are you okay? I’m sorry if I rushed things, just a bit excited tonight.”

“Again, not your fault, I can’t - I thought I was… Everything is so confusing.”

“Do you wanna talk?” Charlotte asks, “Seriously, I’m great at advice.”

He wants to put that wall up, say he’s fine and leave, but he can't. So he tells her. Maybe talking to a mostly-stranger will help.

“I think I might be… Not straight.”

Her eyes widen for a moment, which he can barely see in the darkness,”Oh,” She says, “So what are you?”

“I don’t...” He starts, “I don’t know, I didn’t even start having the questions until a few days ago.”

“Lemme guess, you came here and came outside with me to prove to yourself you like girls?”

He almost wants to snap at her, say she was wrong, but words escape him all too fast, “Maybe..”

“What made you start having the questions in the first place?” She asks, looking surprisingly unoffended about George holding no true attraction to her. 

“Well, I have this friend, and he-”

“And you have feelings for him.” Charlotte finishes, _ Wow she is bold _. 

He sputters, “I don’t know, honestly, I think so, but I found this book and-” His breath gets caught in his throat “The book.”

“Pardon?” She calls as he starts walking back towards the street. She follows behind him, “George, fill me in here?”

“A book, I got a book and I was reading it and it’s in my bag,” He says, voice muffled as he talks against the wind. 

“Christ,” She mumbles, still sticking close behind him. 

George pushes the door of the bar open and heads straight to the coat-bag-something check. “A bag,” He huffs to the lady standing watch, “Small, navy blue, I need it.”

She hums as she searches through the contenders, “George?” She asks, holding up a bag with a sticky note on it reading his name. He nods, and she hands it over. 

“So the book is in the bag?” Charlotte asks, and George jumps, having almost forgot she was there. 

“Yeah - the book, it - it’s kind of what’s making me realize all this.”

“So allow me to get this straight,” She smirks at her pun, “You have feelings for a boy, you got a book, and now you think you’re gay?”

“Maybe gay,” He mutters, “Dunno yet,” He begins to walk towards the exit, this time with her beside him.

“Right,” She nods, “Have you ever been in love with a girl?”

“No,” He shakes his head, “But I’ve liked them.”

“Liked because you liked them, or because you thought you had to?”

And that’s devastating, like his world is crashing around him, brick by brick crumbling. “I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot,” Charlotte says, gentle, “And I’ve only known you a few hours, but I think you’re going through something big.”

“Why now?” He asks, sliding down the brick wall and rubbing his eyes, crossing his legs on the pavement. “Shouldn’t this type of world-breaking revelation happened in highschool? Or earlier?”

“There are people who don’t come out until their seventies,” She reasons, “George, you can’t try to hide from it, or you’re going to spend your whole like unhappy, and then end up with a wife you don’t love and children born from a dishonest pair of parents.”

He sees that future, then, flashes of fake smiles and lying for years. He doesn’t want that. 

“What do I do?”

“Whatever feels best for you, man. If that’s telling this mystery boy about your feelings or just reading more of that book, it has to be something you’re comfortable with.”

“Dammit,” He mumbles, “I have to face all this now, don’t I?”

She smiles, pity visible, "Guess so."

⋅☆⋅

George arrives home after dark - thought he doesn’t know what time it is, he knows it’s late enough for Alex to be frustrated at him for not calling. 

Except Alex is on the couch, fast asleep. George closes the door quietly, making sure every move is calculated as to not wake up. He looks peaceful. 

His hair is pushed back casually and his eyes closed, a pink dusted across his cheeks, legs tucked to his chest. George feels himself smile, heart thumping the longer he looks. 

“Oh, you’re home.”

George jumps, “Shit!” He yelps, covering his mouth immediately, glancing at Alex to make sure he wasn’t woken. 

“Sorry for startling you,” James smiles, “Alex fell asleep in the middle of a movie, can you believe him?”

George feels jealousy tear at him like his nerves were being pulled out with tweezers, “Sounds like Alex.”

“Hey,” James whispers, stopping him from leaving the living room, “Are you okay lately, mate? Alex keeps saying you’re mugging him off and that doesn’t seem like you.”

“Can everyone just leave me alone?” George snaps, but less malice laces his voice than intended - instead, it’s desperation leaking from his words. 

James purses his lips, “Maybe you wanna talk in your room?” He motions to the sleeping boy a few feet away from them. 

“No,” George shakes his head, “I don’t wanna talk to you right now, you can stay out here with Alex, which I’m sure it good for both of you.”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” James asks, fingers tightened on his coffee mug defensively. 

“Nothing, I’m normal! Everyone else is the problem, you and Alex talking about my mental health and acting like you know me, well you can go suck one because there is nothing wrong with me.”

James looks hurt but George can’t bring himself to feel guilt. It’s his fault. His fault. 

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” George sputters, “But you-”

“You’re right, we shouldn’t have talked about your problems behind your back. But we’re just worried about you. You need someone to talk to, George, you're spiraling and have been for a while, and we just want to know why so we can help you.”

George is silent as he looks at Alex again. Fast asleep, peaceful, unburdened. He wants to be like that. 

“You need to tell him,” James says, quiet. 

George’s head snaps back to him, “Tell him what?”

“You don’t have to do it until you’re comfortable, but you and I both know you’re not being honest with him about what you want you two to be.”

“How do you -”

“The book you’re holding, for one.”

George glances to his hands, realizing that the book he’d meant to keep in his bag was instead there, title facing James. 

“Not even just that, but I’ve been in love, George. I know how it feels and I damn well know what it looks like to hide it.”

“James, I can’t just - I haven’t even said the words yet.”

“Take it at your own pace,” He assures, "But you're pretty obvious."

“Whatever, it's not like they're returned or anything."

“Jesus,” James mutters, “Maybe you’re all dense.”

“James, you don’t get it, I’m just now realizing I might be…” He pauses, word slipping out of his mouth, tasting foreign, “Gay. I’m not ready to confess shit.”

James’ eyes widen for a moment, as if he’s surprised at George actually saying it, “Maybe I don’t get it, but you have people who love and care about you - not to mention a roommate who’s both your best friend _and _experienced with sexuality stuff.”

“I know.”

“You gotta stop shutting people out, George.”

It feels a bit like he’s being chastised, and it’s odd coming from a friend only a tad older than him, but George swallows his annoyance. 

He smiles stiffly and excuses himself to his bedroom - he thinks sleep may be what he needs right now. 

He wants to read more, but as he sits down he discarded the book across his bed, leaving it unopened and buried in the duvet.

He doesn’t even bother to flick on any of his lights, instead he feels himself melt into his mattress, and exhaustion introduces itself to him. 

⋅☆⋅

“Alex,” George says the next morning. He’s awake and James is nowhere to be seen. Alex himself is sitting where he fell asleep last night, on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Morning boss,” Alex greets with a smile, “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” George laughs, “Don’t think I moved a damn inch.”

“Good, You need some good rest” Alex smiles, picking his legs off the couch, “Wanna play a game of FIFA?”

George considers for a moment - considers how long he’s spent alone the past few months, avoiding his roommate like the plague, and how much he missed a lazy Saturday. 

He sits, Alex smiles wider, and George gets comfortable, “Pass me a controller.”

They play, and it’s nice - halfway through a game Alex gets playfully mad, tossing a leg over one of George’s. It’s intimate, but it’s something Alex always does, making this a common practice. It still makes his face warm though, and Alex wins. 

“Gotcha!” He cheers, tossing aside his controller but keeping his leg a top of George’s. “Can we watch a movie now? In the mood for Disney, quite honestly.”

They chose Tangled, and George misses the presence of Alex when he’s putting in the movie, but the second he gets back to the couch, he’s almost pressed into his side. George doesn’t tell him to move. 

The longer the movie is on, the more Alex leans into him, and George leans back, and ends up with an arm around him. James, Fraser, Will - Alex cuddles them, whether it’s appreciated or not, so he knows he shouldn’t read too much into this - but Alex is warm, and sometimes he giggles softly, or gently sings along to the words, and George is fucked. 

Absolutely fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked or are excited for more, drop a kudos or maybe a comment! this fic has a lot of my very little writing time so it's much appreciated :)


	3. the better half of me that i couldn't quit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i'm leaving you love notes in the kitchen that say it all, let's be lucky people, you and me."
> 
> -
> 
> confessions, acceptance, and a hell of a lot of kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, first off, im SO sorry this took me so long to finish. i was worried that when i finished it i'd feel all sad, but i'm actually happy to have it off my chest. this chapter is incredibly soft and involves a lot of kind words and kisses and cheesy talks so if you don't like that i'm so sorry. 
> 
> thank you for reading, this fic has a special place in my heart and I hope you enjoy the last chapter!

“I’m gay,” George mumbles into the dark room. It’s his eighth night reciting the words like a poem. It wouldn’t leave his throat at first, but with every utterance it gets a little easier. “I’m gay.”

His talk with James had given him a realization, like a slap in the face, that it was never gonna go away. He had to accept it. 

He sighs, rubbing his eyes to glance over at his alarm clock. It’s nearing morning, and he still hasn’t gotten any sleep, so he gives up for the day. 

He pulls himself out of bed reluctantly, but the heavy feeling on his shoulder isn’t as bad as it was yesterday, or the day before. He busies himself with nothing - cleaning his room, rearranging books and candles, choosing a new place for the small rug he and Alex had picked up at a fair months ago. 

It’s light outside when he leaves his bedroom; Confusingly though, Alex’s bedroom door is wide open, with no boy in the bed. His mystery is solved when he sees him on the couch. His legs are crossed and a laptop sits on his knees, eyebrows furrowed and lips perched on his coffee mug that he’s just idly holding to his mouth. 

“It’s like six am,” George chimes, seeing Alex jolt a bit in surprise, “Why are we both awake?”

“Depression with a side of insomnia for me,” Alex smiles, scooting closer to the side, making room for his friend. 

George takes it, maybe sitting a tad closer to him than he would if it was Will or Fraser. “I guess for me it’s an entree of anxiety with a main course of contemplation.”

“Contemplation,” Alex echoes, setting his coffee cup aside and shutting his laptop, “What kinda of contemplation are we talking?”

George naws at his lip, looking him in the eyes. “The kind of self-identity contemplation that is absolutely world shaking.”

Alex’s interest looks peaked at this, eyebrows raising, “Oh? Do tell.”

“I don’t know how to tell you, honestly,” George sighs, “But if I don’t tell someone I’m gonna end up exploding.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? Seriously, I don’t bite,” A grin breaks across his face, “Well, I do sometimes.”

George rolls his eyes but it’s fonder than he intended it to be. “I know I shouldn’t be struggling to say it because I’ve  _ said _ it before but not to anyone else and It’s absolutely wrecking me.”

Alex moves his still shut laptop to the coffee table to he can turn more towards him, “George, I’m sure everything will be okay. Unless you tell me you killed someone, then I’ll probably have some sort of negative reaction. Oh, unless it’s the annoying neighbors from our last flat, then I’ll help you hide the b-”

“I’m gay.”

The words hang in the air and George immediately regret speaking, seeing Alex’s eyes blown wide. 

“You’re…” He trails off, head tilting to the side.

“I’m… I’m gay.”

Alex nods, “Okay,” He whispers, “Alright - and I’m the first person you’ve told?”

“You’re the first person I’ve said the words too, yes.”

In a flash Alex’s arms are around him, hand against his head and fingers tangled in his hair. 

“Proud of you.”

For Alex, a boy who never cared about his sexuality or others', this gesture made George feel so warm. He’d always had the idea that people should just be who they are with no question, but George just wasn’t built like that. 

And now, Alex smiling at him with his hands on his shoulders and eyes sparkling, George feels the weight on his shoulders lift. 

“I’m glad you shared with me,” Alex says, “You liking blokes would never change how I think of you.”

“Well it would be kind of hypocritical of you,” George smiles.

Alex grins, “I’m not the only one now!”

God, George wants to kiss him. 

“I have to tell you something else,” He says, feeling nervous under Alex’s gaze. 

“Oh? Bigger than you being gay?”

Panic sets it. Everything could be ruined within seconds, and Alex's small smile and messy hair is doing nothing to calm his nerves. 

George swallows, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, “Alex, I,” He pauses, “I have feelings for you. Flutters-in-the-stomach feelings and they’re confusing and I hate it but I can’t just push you away anymore, it’s killing me.”

Alex’s eyebrows are high, like he’s more surprised at that than he was about George’s previous declaration. 

Alex had always been so collected, in a way. He's loud and outspoken but so sure, and seeing the guard flushed away within seconds is absolutely overwhelming. 

“George,” He says, lips parted. 

He's silent and George's heart is racing and out, he needs to get out,  _ away _ , breathe -

“Listen, you don’t have to respond,” He smiles tightly, “I can - I can go stay at Will’s while you think, I can come back in a few days and we can pretend this never happened-”

He tries to stand but Alex grabs his wrist and tugs him back, staring at him wordlessly. George feels his chest tighten as Alex uses his other hand to stretch forward and cup his face. 

It's like everything is happening in slow motion, too slow but too fast, too much but not enough. 

He leans in. George leans in. And they kiss. 

It’s warm and a little awkward at first because they're tense but the second Alex tilts his head and tangles his fingers through his hair, he’s in heaven. 

It’s everything George had dreamed about and more, an overwhelming mix of exploration and desire, and when Alex pulls away he can’t help but wish he hadn’t. 

“Fuck,” George mutters, leaning into Alex’s touch and letting his eyes slip closed.

“I like you,” Alex says, “And I never thought you would like me too.”

“Are you kidding me?” George deadpans, “I like you so _so_ much. It's quite literally taken over my emotions."

Alex purses his lips, “Why didn’t you tell me, nonce! I would’ve kissed you sooner!”

“You could've told me too you know! It’s not just my fault! And honestly I thought you were into James.”

“Marriott?” Alex says, jaw slack, “I’m not into him, he’s just the only person I told that I like you!”

George feels so utterly stupid. How could he distance himself from someone who ended up liking him back the way he had always desired?

“Can you kiss me again?” George asks, wondering when in the hell Alex turned him into such a softie. 

Alex doesn’t even answer, just grins, pulls him close, and connects their lips. 

⋅☆⋅

_ When we as people come to terms with our gender or sexuality, the time for growth and acceptance follow suit. You’re now the person you’ve always been meant to be, even if it feels foreign at first. Happiness is just around the corner.  _

“You’re still reading that book?” Alex’s groggy voice calls from beside him, leaning up. His hair is sticking every which way and he still looks half asleep. He looks pretty.

“Actually I just finished it,” He says, smiling and reaching out to cup his cheek, “You can keep sleeping you know, princess, it’s like eight.”

Alex shrugs and snakes his arm around George’s bare torso, “I’m okay,” He says, pressing a kiss to George’s shoulder. It had been almost three weeks since they first kissed. 

“Want some brekkie?” George asks, resting the book on the other side of his bed beside him. 

“Later,” Alex says, “M’comfy.”

George laughs and feels his chest warm, ruffling the others hair. This is nice. This is  _ perfect _ . This is what George’s wanted since before he realized he liked Alex, before he realized who he really is. It’s good to be so comfortable with him. 

Eventually George does go to make breakfast, and when he goes into his bedroom to tell Alex he’s running out to get eggs, he’s fast asleep. He’s buried in blankets and there’s a fresh bruise on his from neck where, George admits, he got a little too excited the night before. Their audience is going to have something to say about that for sure. 

He leaves a note on the cabinet,  _ Gone down to the shops to get some eggs, be back soon, Beautiful _ . It’s cheesy and not like George at all but god dammit this boy does something to him. 

When he’s back, Alex is sitting on the couch on his phone, still shirtless and looking pretty. 

“Back with the eggs!” He cheers, grin spread across his face. 

“Glad you saw the note,” George teases, “Was afraid you’d miss it and just think I’d left. Which I’d never.”

George takes the eggs to the kitchen and Alex follows suit, sitting on the counter next to the stove. It’s nice to just spend time with him, making the eggs and bacon and Alex on his phone, stealing kisses once and awhile. 

Eventually they sit on the couch to enjoy their meals, legs touching and silence comfortable instead of stiff. 

Both plates long discarded on the table, Alex's arm around George's waist, he speaks, "Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

It's so casual that George wonders if he heard him wrong. "Huh?" He mutters, blinking up at Alex from where his head is on his shoulder. 

"We've been kinda existing without a label for a few weeks now and I wanted to know if you wanted to be my boyfriend."

"Oh," says George, "Well yes, I do, actually."

Alex grins and kisses his forehead, "Good! Good good." 

George laughs and feels the familiar, warm feeling blossom in his chest. 

"Do you wanna go on a date?"

"Does date mean FIFA like last time?" Alex teases, making George's face flush red. 

"No, bellend, I mean an actual, nice, romantic date. Since we're  _ boyfriends _ now."

The word rolls off his tongue so easily, nothing like 'girlfriend' ever did.

"Where are we going?" Alex asks, smile present on his lips. 

⋅☆⋅

The bookstore hasn't changed much since George first entered a few weeks ago. 

The same girl is at the counter as last time, and if she recognizes him she doesn't show it. 

The biggest change is Alex's hand laced in his, letting George guide him through the aisles. Alex pretends to be interested in the books and it's cute, but George knows him too well to be convinced. 

It's been three months since they've become official.

He remembers how sick he felt being here last time. The weight on his shoulders, the tightness of his chest. Now he just smiles. 

He feels light as he wisks his boyfriend through the towers of books. Boyfriend. 

Maybe that's what changed most. He went from trying to shut Alex out so he wouldn't have to face his feelings for him to  _ boyfriends _ . 

It feels better to have him by his side. 

But George isn't sure that's what's changed the most.

When George first entered the store, he was muddled in confusion and denial. He's shaken it off. Maybe not completely, but as Alex pulls him in for a kiss under one of the soft bookstore lights, George feels confident he's in the right place. 

"You know what we should do," Alex says, inches away. 

"Hm?" George mutters softly, fingers mindlessly fixing the others hair. 

Alex leans into his touch and looks to the floor, "We could order in, maybe get drinks, have a movie marathon? Just us?" 

George's face splits into a grin, "Sounds perfect."

Then, he remembers why they came in the first place, and first pulls him to the counter. 

The lady turns to help but pauses when she sees him reach into the basket of pins. 

"They're a fifty cents a piece, 75 for two."

George nods and pulls out the pin when he finds it. It's simple, just a rainbow, but it makes his heart swell seeing it. 

"Nice," Alex comments, wide smile present. 

"You should pick one out," Geore says, setting the rainbow on the counter. 

Alex hums, fishing through the basket. Eventually he pulls one out that has two stick figures holding hands, both representing males against a soft gradient. It goes from pink to purple to clue and has cursive letters saying 'Equal'. 

"I like that one," George whispers. "Those are the bi colors, innit?"

"Yeah," Alex nods and points to the figure on the left, "This ones a bit taller, that one's me."

George looks and they're definitely the same height, but he just rolls his eyes, "You're only an inch taller than me, asshole."

“ _ Two _ inches,” Alex grins and looks at him like he wants to kiss him - George turns away though and back to the still smiling cashier. 

"Just these two, please."

"Seventy five," she says, taking the coins, "And can I just say, you two are such a cute couple. 

They glance at each other and share a smile. It's small but it's filled with so much meaning that George almost feels dizzy. 

"Thank you," George says, putting the rainbow pin on his chest, visible for anyone to see. 

Alex puts his on when they're walking down the sidewalk - or tries, at least, and curses as he pokes himself. 

"You're useless," George sighs as he plucks the pin out of his hold and makes him turn. He puts it on and smiles as he sees it stay put. 

"Thanks," Alex grins, and let's George kiss him, in the middle of the street. 

He'd kiss him in front of all of London, George thinks, if he looked at him the way he is now. 

They mirror the figures on the pin as they walk down the sidewalk, hand in hand and smiles hidden in dusted blush. 

George drags him to the park where he remembers reading parts of the book that shattered what he knew about himself. It's under that same tree that he takes everything back into his own grasp. 

He wraps his arms around Alex's neck and pulls him into a kiss, putting everything he hasn't been able to say the past few months into it. 

When George had heard about butterflies and fireworks, he never thought this is what they felt like. Too much and not enough all at once, he's absolutely intoxicated. 

"You're incredible," Alex mutters softly when they pause, hands squeezing his hips and eyes smiling on their own. 

"Fuck," George huffs a laugh, "I adore you."

⋅☆⋅

"Wouldn't kill you to help with this box, Alex," George calls, gripping the cardboard tight, "It's heavy as bullocks."

Alex walks over with apologetic eyes, "At least this is the last one," He grins, leading George and the box into the house. 

Their first house. It's not gigantic by any means; the master bedroom has a big bathroom and there are two other rooms they're planning on using for guests and an office/filming space. 

It's nice, and as they set down the final box and wipe the sweat from their foreheads, George feels himself relax. 

Alex's arms wrap around his waist and kiss his neck sweetly, "Wanna go on the porch and relax a little bit? The sun will be going down soon."

George leans into him, "There's beers in the fridge." 

Alex gets the beers and meets him on the porch. They sit, side by side, enjoying the amber sunlight slowly descend behind the tree line. 

"Did you ever think we'd get this far?" Alex asks, shivering. 

George inches closer and uses his free hand to wrap around Alex's shoulder and thread his fingers in his hair. 

"No, honestly. Crazy to think a year ago I was still convinced I'd find a girl, fall for her, and that would be that."

"And now you're dating your best friend," Alex says with a toothy grin. 

"My annoying best friend who I love very much," George says, voice all too soft. He doesn't mind though, because Alex's blue eyes are sparkling and he's leaning in to give him a gentle kiss. 

"I love you too."

He tastes like beer and cherry chapstick and wow, George is_ in love_. 

"We should probably get back to packing soon," George sighs after a while of condensable silence, dropping his arm and moving so he's cuddled into Alex's chest. 

"You say that, but if I moved you, you'd be crabby all night."

George wrinkles his nose and lets his head fall into Alex's lap, taking his collar and pulling him down for yet another kiss. He'll never get sick of this. Never get sick of him. 

"You know," George says, the breeze cooling his warm cheeks, "I'm glad we're together."

Alex smiles, but his eyebrows furrow, "Oddly mushy today, aren't we?"

George gently flicks him in the chest, "Oh shut up. I'm saying we're lucky to have found each other, is all."

"Lucky," Alex echos, thumb brushing across George's jaw. "That we are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it! thank you for reading, if you'd spare a comment it'd mean the WORLD to me, truly. (also there's plenty of fics on my profile involving these two and the other boys, so read away!!)
> 
> thank you again. seriously.

**Author's Note:**

> if you want more/enjoyed please leave a comment or kudos because it is deeply appreciated!!


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